


a language that i never knew

by goldminegoldmine



Series: ace jongin [6]
Category: EXO (Band), SHINee
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Multi, identity development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldminegoldmine/pseuds/goldminegoldmine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jinki's perspective and identity in stages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a language that i never knew

**Author's Note:**

> this is a little bit more distanced from the rest of the ace!jongin series. i just have a lot of feelings

It’s not long, in the sense of years, before Jinki learns how he loves people.

It feels like he’s barely grown into his body, like his knees have barely stopped creaking, like his baby teeth have only just fallen out, like he’s so young he can barely stand on his own when he learns how he loves people. How he loves people, how he doesn’t, how other people love each other.

The learning happens, fittingly, while he’s in training.

As a trainee, Jinki is allowed to be shy and scared and new. He’s allowed to hide under his hood for weeks before he reaches out to anyone, and so he does.

It takes him a while to peek from beneath the hood, but once he looks around he realizes that he likes most of the people here.  Jinki talks to people. He makes friends. He hangs around with Jimin who’s a year older than him and already dresses like an idol; he smiles a lot when they’re together. Jinki starts talking with a loud girl called Minhee, and a few weeks later she tells him how much she likes him; he doesn’t mind.

Before long, he’s met a lot of people. A sweeping, oceanic group of people he cares about in one way or another, and in the fast current of changing faces at SM, Jinki finds some solid ground.

He learns that he loves like a collector. Like an antiquer. He picks up every crumb, every little speck of information about people until he has pockets stuffed with trivia; favorite dinners, brothers and sisters, passions, tiny secrets. He gathers until he feels full, carrying around little innocuous pieces of friendship, lightweight and buoyant, filling his bags and his hands.

(And he keeps everything. Even now he remembers Minhee’s mother’s name. He remembers the first thing Taemin ever said to him. He remembers that Jimin used to play the clarinet, that Kibum first treated him like he was competition and that Jonghyun greeted him right away like an old friend. He remembers how it felt when Jimin told him he had kind eyes. He remembers Minho’s stubborn, polite perseverance, and Minhee’s soft long hair falling against his arm as they sat together almost-touching against a practice room wall. He’s never been good at throwing things away.)

There’s a buzz amongst the trainees, a post-pubescent charge in the air as they stumble around each other. Sometimes they trip and fall and end up together, and Jinki watches with passive amusement as they start to shyly link fingers, break off in pairs and press their heads together in corners when they think they’re alone. He listens to them talk about their crushes, their kisses, their breakups, their promises.

Jinki observes, and after a while he almost thinks that he could be like this with Minhee.

He gets excited whenever he sees her, likes her cheeks and the way her eyes scrunch up when she smiles at him. He wants to spend more and more time with her. But they don’t hold hands, and Jinki floods hot at the thought of having to put his arm around her waist. He doesn’t want to think about kissing her at all.

He doesn’t know what that means.

(If he had to, now, he’d say that he _had_ dated Minhee. But it was in a simple childlike way, and he had dated Jimin too, though he hadn’t known at the time that he was allowed to do that with another boy.)

As Jinki gathers more friends, as he grows closer to the four people he’s scheduled to debut with, it gets confusing. Because he does think there’s something between him and Minhee, he does think that he might have a crush.

But he likes Minhee’s bubbling laugh in the same way that he likes the feathery mess of Jonghyun’s hair late at night. He likes hearing Minhee talk about her family; it makes him feel trusted and safe, but so does the intimacy of Taemin’s quiet confessions of homesickness. Exchanging numbers with Jimin sets off little quakes in his belly, and Kibum resting a shy, comforting palm on his shoulder makes him feel a twinge of that same thing too.

Jinki decides he doesn’t need to figure it out quite yet.

-

 _Leader_ is like nothing Jinki has ever wanted. Like nothing he thinks he _deserves,_ even if doesn’t doubt himself often anymore.

He’s been slowly building a wall of self-confidence that by now is almost sturdy.  He’s listened to his voice echo between tiles and bounce down from ceilings and thought that maybe he has enough there to make it. Maybe he could lead with his voice, in a few years. And he’s alright with how his face looks in the mirror, pretty sure that with the right makeup and the right lighting he could pass for an idol. He’s not sure about his body yet but that’s alright; there’s still time. He thinks he has an okay smile, and nose, and chin. He’s not as terrible at dancing as he was when he started training either – thanks to Taemin’s example and Kibum’s relentlessness, and a stubborn desire to prove something to himself.

But _leader_.

Jinki has always thought he was too quiet. Too lazy for that, too slow, not a center of attention, not a source of authority, and the list goes on in his mind. He’s cycled through every adjective, every possible reason why he _shouldn’t_  be leader. He’s never voiced any of it.

They’d given him “leader”, and Jinki’s neck had cracked when he had straightened from his accepting bow. Kibum had looked relieved. Taemin had looked up at Jinki through his hair, just a little bit guarded. Jonghyun had smiled at him with a full set of teeth; Minho with a smaller smile, but no less sincere.

They give him leader, and Jinki pulls his socks off and yanks his blanket up to his chin. He rocks his head back and forth on his pillow, firmer than the one he has at home, wishing he could sink into it completely. This bed is so small and the members – _his_ members – are breathing loudly all around him. The air is almost too hot, quietly boiling under his covers.

It’s hard to sleep.

(He does find that eventually his pillow forms a soft ocean around the shape of his skull and that, after a while, he likes the white noise of snores. Eventually, he finds some solace in the ownership of his role. He hasn’t changed; the way he loves people hasn’t changed. Every time one of them knocks on his door, every time they seek him out, his aching treasure chest fills a little bit more. He keeps wanting to know them better, and the craving makes him a better leader, a better listener. Jinki listens and he collects and he loves this more and more and more.)

-

Jinki gets older, and leader gets easier. It’s easy to sink into his role and forget the feeling of unbalance that creeps around his feet onstage. Easy to pretend that he knows his place in SHINee.

Taemin looks older and taller than he ever has, and he’s been solidifying his footwork, honing in on his talent. He’s captivating, and he works hard, and he knows why he’s here. And Jonghyun is centered in his voice, but he’s becoming comfortable in other roles too. He’s an actor, a chameleon; his energy is boundless. Jinki admires him for it. Kibum is more confident every day, even if he’s still struggling with his body and his nerves – every day the tilt of his chin gets higher and prouder. And Minho’s dedication is always, unfailingly paired with a genuine smile, gigantic and contagious and stabilizing.

Jinki does feel more confident in his voice now, he really does, even if his throat burms sometimes and his notes crack when he’s onstage. He feels almost comfortable now in interviews, in front of cameras.

The rest he’s becoming unsure of.

Their concept changes. Jonghyun gets sleeveless outfits, Minho gets tighter pants, Taemin gets his hair pushed back, Kibum gets heavier eyeliner. Jinki gets fewer items of clothing, and he’s suddenly chilly onstage.

He doesn’t mind performing in t-shirts; it gets hot under the spotlights, and the cotton feels good against him. But then they take the sleeves away, and Jinki has to fight the urge to cross his arms and hunch his shoulders. There are goosebumps all along his skin where his sleeves usually are.

And Jinki likes the way his body looks. When he’s alone in front of a mirror, he feels good, doesn’t want to change, but an audience is different than a mirror. Jinki soon asks for the sleeves back. He tries not to listen when anyone tells him to bulk up or cut down. He realizes that, while he doesn’t mind dressing up as an idol, he’s not willing to _un_ dress. It makes him nauseous, if he thinks too much about the way people see him.

So he blocks the audience out when he needs to, keeps mostly to the safe side of his discomfort line. He realizes that there’s an amount of sexualization inherent to being an idol, but he gets good at faking it, keeps his clothes on, and no one notices. He can endure,as long as he’s able to keep at least a little bit of his shield intact.

Of course he can’t control much, and eventually it gets written into a script that Jinki has to change on-screen.

They all do: Taemin takes his time, Jonghyun puts on a show, Kibum and Minho are quick and efficient about it. When it’s Jinki’s turn, he feels his skin heating up and his heart sputtering, and he sort of just stands there with his mouth open and his eyes unblinking.

And then suddenly there are four people in front of him. Four still-chattering boys lining up and waving their arms around between Jinki and the camera. Jinki blinks and strips off his shirt as fast as he can, pulling the new one on, hoping that the camera can’t catch any of him at all. He’s dressed and the show continues, but there are little shivers still running all throughout his body, and his throat feels tight and full.

None of them mention it afterwards, but they each give Jinki a gentle goodbye touch (to his shoulder or his back or his cheek), and Jinki makes sure to tell them all thank you the next morning.

-

Jinki gets older, and his sliver of interest in romance wanes.

Dating changes, as he gets older. Sex becomes the focus, the first consideration, the most important, and Jinki just – steps back. Stops talking to people like that, stops caring about romance.

He does think about it sometimes, the fragile thrill of choosing to be with someone in that way, how it might be something he wants. Every once in a while he feels a twinge of something close to longing around the edges of his ribcage, but it’s always an inconsequential feeling, and it always shakes away with time.

Jinki doesn’t want to have sex, not with anyone, maybe not ever.

He’s never heard anyone say that before, though, so he quietly bows out, avoids that kind of interaction, becomes an observer. It doesn’t bother him much. Everyone is too wrapped up in things to notice.

Minho, one evening, can be seen from the living room with his hands around a girl’s waist, their low hush voices barely reaching Jinki’s ears. Minho doesn’t say anything much about her later, and Jinki doesn’t see her there again, but Jinki knows that Minho kissed her, shut the door for a while, and emerged with his makeup gone and sweat in his hair.

Jinki doesn’t ask.

(Later, he sees Jonghyun and Taemin rolling each other over on the living room rug. Something about the way they are convinces him not to worry. They might just balance each other out nicely, Jinki thinks, at the image of Jonghyun on Taemin’s lap, a casual hand reached up and around into Taemin’s hair. Like they’re together but they’ve forgotten they are. It’s strange to see them like that, strange to solidify the knowledge that they actually are having sex. But it’s not _too_ strange, and even if Jinki has to walk quickly past closed doors and avoid thin walls, and even if he catches them in kisses fairly frequently, nothing is very different.)

-

Jinki has never been good with touch. He has the baseline down, he’s good with playful and friendly and brief. He can do supportive: shoulders and upper backs and wrists and quick hugs. But beyond that, he goes blank. He’s never kissed anyone that wasn’t family, and he stiffens in hugs that last too long, never knows what to do with his hands.

He can be clumsy on stage, but he never _feels_ as clumsy as when he’s touching someone in an unfamiliar way.

The members become his exception.

Jonghyun is inherently tactile, never holds back when he wants touch. When Jonghyun cries, he reaches without thought, and often, Jinki is closest. It’s instinctive touch, and Jonghyun needs it, and Jinki is fine with it. And Taemin will curl into him still even though they’re closer to the same size now, will lean into Jinki with a wide smile when he’s happy and can’t find words for it. Minho is solid and soft with touch, shows support through physicality. Minho needs to offer comfort for his own peace of mind, and Jinki understands that. Kibum hardly ever asks for affection, but Jinki knows that when he gets overwhelmed it’s easy to ground him, just takes intertwined fingers and a soft squeeze of his palm.

Slowly, Jinki learns how to touch those four people.

Things sink into a comfort between them all; Jinki’s body temperature warms to match the ocean they’ve been dropped into. He finds the floor in it, a rock and sand foundation. He curls his toes and stands his ground. Leader is no longer a volatile word.

-

Jonghyun tells Jinki about his relationship with Taemin and confesses his love to Jinki at the same time.

“Like I'm in love with you or Kibum or Minho. It’s hard not to be,” Jonghyun says and Jinki heats up inside, has what feels like another in a long line of revalations.

Jinki has watched romance happen around him his whole life, has always believed that romantic relationships are somehow the most important, the most meaningful, the most everything. It’s what he’s been taught, and he’s never thought to question it. He accepts it, accepts that he’s happy without that type of relationship, and moves on.

But now Jinki’s thinking about his four best friends, and he’s thinking about what Jonghyun said. They’re all kids, still, dressed up in gold, clinging to the horizon of something. They’re clinging to each other just as much.

It’s not romance, it’s not sex, but how could it be anything less?

(And when Jinki’s throat quits on him and he has to be cut open and fixed, when he can’t rely on his voice anymore, when it hurts to listen and not be able to reassure, Jinki gets better at touch. When Kibum breaks down and all Jinki can do is fold him up on his lap and stroke his hair, he does without hesitance. When Taemin’s shoulders seize up from sitting by Jinki’s bed all night, Jinki pulls him up between his legs and massages the worry out of him. Jinki finds his grip and it helps him keep his mind away from the fire in his throat. He sleeps on Minho’s solid, warm shoulder. He lets Jonghyun’s fingers rest along Jinki’s neck at night. He welcomes it, and, in his pain, he’s grateful.)

-  
Jonghyun crawls into Jinki’s bed with his too-long hair and his cold toes and tells Jinki that Jongin is asexual, and Jinki feels something burst inside his chest. It’s like the feeling that’s supposed to happen when you’re in love, Jinki thinks; he’s a little short of breath, a little nervous, a lot excited.

(Looking back, he thinks maybe he knew about Taemin and Jongin, though he never _knew_. They are just how they’ve always been.)

Jinki falls back asleep in a yellow-orange haze, his nose buried in Jonghyun’s hair and a smile on his face. He makes a resolution.

Jinki asks Taemin for Jongin’s number. While he’s at it, he tells Taemin the reason why, and Taemin just smiles wide at him, says, “Good for you, hyung,” and types Jongin’s number into his phone.

It’s surprisingly easy, talking to Jongin. Jinki is used to being hyung and leader intertwined, the one who listens and doesn’t divulge. He listens, he consoles, he helps, and he internalizes. He doesn’t talk much about things that bother him, or things that he feels. It’s okay, it works; he’s good at internalizing. But once he starts talking to Jongin, he realizes how _much_ he’s been withholding, how much he can now say.

He’s still a hyung, still in a position to give advice, but that’s it. He’s not Jongin’s leader; he’s not responsible for Jongin. They talk about everything, eventually. Their relationships, their identities. Taemin. Performing. How they feel, how they want, how they differ. Surpisingly, it isn't awkward – Jongin doesn't seem to mind sharing personal things, and Jinki feels like he’s free to say things he never has before. He falls asleep that night feeling calm from his head to his feet, solidified.

They meet again the next week, and the next week, and the week after that.

-

Jinki can sing again and it’s easier than it ever has been to dance. Part of that is just his body getting stronger, part of it is the relief of recovery, and part of it is an unnameable weightlessness.

He’s standing on cold soft wood floors, arms filled with so many memories it’s hard to keep them up, and all he wants to do is stay and collect more.  Jinki as a toddler who wouldn’t sing in front of anyone but his family; Jinki as an eighteen year old with too many mixing thoughts in his head and too many people to love; Jinki with the name Onew on him like a spotlight; Jinki in his own body unable to speak. None of them are separate. They all feel real now.

He knows that this isn’t endless. He knows that his life won’t be this shape forever – even though he’s finally settled and full, Jinki _knows_ he won’t always have the comfort of being part of SHINee. And he doesn’t want this forever, not all of it. But he’s built a house here, around them, and he’s found someone like him, and he wants that part to stay.

He thinks maybe it can.


End file.
